


Saw You In Class

by nevergonnaquitit



Series: Twittibal High School AU [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV), Supernatural
Genre: AU, Dream Sex, High School AU, I can't believe I did this, M/M, Slash, Underage Drinking, Unrequited Love, brother complexes, human objects, so much melodrama, twittibal - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-02-12 14:19:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2113158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nevergonnaquitit/pseuds/nevergonnaquitit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>High School AU in which two lonely boys find each other--and love--in the halls of the Baltimore State School for the Academically Gifted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Think About What You Do

**Author's Note:**

> Saul Lecter is a character created by Twitter user @TheLecterSaw  
> Baby is obviously based off of the Impala, and is Twitter user @Actual_Impala67 (me, hehe)
> 
> I apologize for nothing.

The day that Saul Lecter started attending the Baltimore State School for the Academically Gifted, Baby Winchester was in detention.

Baby Winchester was  _ always  _ in detention. He was seventeen and perpetually restless, always looking for trouble...and trouble frequently found him. With his bright blue eyes and all-American boy face, very few people could stay mad at him for long. Which was why he got away with the shit he did.

Currently, he  _ wasn't _ getting away with an embezzlement scheme involving the school's cafeteria. Detention was located in the gymnasiam and Baby was lying lengthwise over the bleacher seat, staring up at the beams criss-crossing the ceiling. Mid-afternoon sunlight painted the gym orange, casting odd shadows all around the students condemned to the boredom of the sentence. 

In charge of monitoring them was Mr. Chilton, a humorless, dry man with a permanent five o'clock shadow and a nasty temper. Baby had long learned to avoid him entirely. As long as you didn't  _ directly _ piss Chilton off, he wouldn't give you too much hell.

Detention ended at 2:55 pm, in time to release the students to the buses, and as soon as the bell rang Baby was up, his backpack thrown over his shoulder, hopping off the bleachers and rushing into the (still mostly empty) hallway. It was quickly filled up, however, with students eager to get the hell out of Dodge. He shouldered his way past the other teenagers until he made it to the 300 hall, where the early college students held their classes.  _ They _ didn't get released until four, and it was currently the only quiet place in the entire school.

Baby headed down the deserted hallway. He'd long ago learned that if he went  _ this  _ way, he could avoid the crowd and make it out to his old Chevy with very little resistance.

He was looking over his shoulder at the mass of students passing through the main hall when he walked right into a solid wall.

At least, that's what it felt like. He fell back, his heavy backpack over-balancing him and his ass hit the linoleum hard.

He stared, stunned, at the dark-haired boy glaring back at him from less than three feet away. Baby had never been looked at like that. He made friends easily, naturally. He didn't have an enemy in the world. But this guy was giving him a look like he was the most disgusting human being on the planet.

Clearing his throat, Baby readjusted his backpack and got to his feet. "Uh...hey. Sorry, man. Wasn't paying attention." He reached a hand out towards the other kid, trying to be friendly.

"Don't fucking touch me."

Baby was taken aback by the cold tone of the guy's voice. Their eyes met--blue on blue, though the other guy's were darker, more intense--and Baby shivered. He felt an odd sense of connection, as if he'd met the dude before, but he knew for a fact he hadn't. Slowly, he withdrew his hand, instead resting it on his waist and observing the other boy as he also stood.

They were of exactly the same height, not quite six foot--above average for boys their age. Where Baby had sandy blonde hair and eyes the color of the sky at five o'clock in the afternoon, the other guy had hair like black bristles, but neatly combed to the side, and his eyes were coolly blue-gray, like the glint off of the blade of a saw. As opposed to Baby's casual, slouched posture, he held himself straight and high, a certain proudness inherent in his demeanor. He looked at Baby as if he was a fleck of dirt on his shoe.

"I didn't mean anything by it," Baby said, a little awkward. He wasn't used to apologizing, but for some reason, he felt it was necessary in this case.

The other guy didn't say anything, just stared.  _ Weird _ .

"Ah..." It was so quiet, no other students in this hallway, just the two of them. Baby felt the need to make some kind of small talk. "I'm Baby. Well...really, Paul Winchester. But no one calls me that. Everyone calls me Baby."

This was true. Baby's brothers, Sam and Dean, had been calling him Baby since birth, and he had never really responded to his real name. Still, he was used to the odd looks people gave him about it. It had made him affect something of a hyper-masculine demeanor, which he was employing now. His voice was gruff and deep, jaw set into a straight line. He held out his hand almost like a challenge.

Instead of likewise introducing himself, the other boy only looked down at Baby's hand with an expression of obvious disgust. His gaze flicked from the hand up to the ceiling, as if to say, 'God, why  _ me _ .' Then he carefully sidestepped Baby and started walking away.

Having always been something of a pet to everyone he met--teachers, students, parents, brothers,  _ anyone _ \--Baby was unused to this kind of dismissal. He turned to watch the guy walk away, chewing on his lower lip in consternation. There was just  _ something  _ about the guy that made Baby want to follow....amazingly, because Baby didn't follow  _ anyone _ . He was a free spirit, a dandelion seed in the wind, a lone rider...

He was definitely trailing the guy from a careful distance of roughly ten feet.

The boy was heading in the opposite direction of the main hallway that lead to the buses. Baby was assuming that he drove to school--much like Baby himself, which meant that he was at least sixteen. Which was good. Though why, Baby couldn't say. He hooked his thumbs in the straps of his backpack, keeping his gaze on the guy's back.

To his surprise, the boy didn't end up in the student parking lot. Instead, he was making his way towards the area of the school most kids called the "Retard District" because it was reserved for kids destined for the local community college, who wanted practical, job-related skills instead of the more abstract academic fields everyone else was beginning to branch into.

From the look the guy had given Baby--and the fact that he was wearing a Hollister shirt, Banana Republic pants, and an LL Bean back pack--Baby had assumed he was one of the rich kids from one of the nicer Baltimore neighborhoods, far removed from Baby, who stayed in a Motel 6 with his father and brothers and could only attend this school on a scholarship.

So he couldn't understand why the hell this seemingly well-off guy was lurking around outside the door of the woodshop class.

After the other boy was inside the classroom, Baby pressed himself to the door frame, carefully looking around to make sure no one else was looking. Of course, no one was. It was after three; most people were in too much of a rush to get home to bother passing this way.

The nameless boy was gathering an assortment of tools, an intent look on his face. His focus fascinated Baby, who rarely was able to manage that kind of seriousness for  _ anything _ , let alone...whatever the fuck this guy was doing.

The longer he watched, the more Baby began to understand that the boy was making some kind of carved figurine from a block of wood. Before he knew it, half an hour had passed; he only knew this because he happened to look up at the clock on the wall, a shock going through him when he saw the time.

"Why the fuck are you stalking me."

The boy's voice was smooth and calm, but nevertheless it made Baby jump almost a mile into the air.

"Ah..." Well, no point in hiding now. Baby stepped into the room, hooking his thumbs in the loops of his jeans. "Hey there. So...this is awkward."

The boy set down his carving, serious eyes finding Baby's. "I don't understand why you were standing there watching me for over thirty minutes. That's strange, isn't it?"

To put it lightly. But something about the boy's tone made Baby begin to suspect that he genuinely didn't  _ know _ if Baby's actions were abnormal or not. "...Not really. No. Not if you're friends." Baby said it on a whim, carefully eyeing the boy, watching every quirk in his body language.

The boy narrowed his eyes at Baby, sharpening the knife he'd been using for carving the figurine. "I don't think we are friends."

"We could be."

"I've never had a friend." The boy said it flatly. "I don't know if I want one."

Baby ran a hand through his hair. It was getting too long; he really needed a hair cut. Who the hell didn't have friends? He almost voiced this...but to be fair, he didn't really have any friends, either. Just acquaintances. Lots and lots of acquaintances. No one he was close enough to to let in. That was  _ dangerous _ . "What's your name, dude?"

The boy looked as if he was seriously considering stabbing Baby, or at least ignoring him. After a long, tense moment, he said, "Saul Lecter."

"Saw," Baby said, the Southern drawl of his voice dragging the name out and completely mauling it. The last name, for some reason, sounded familiar. "Hmm. Suits you."

" _ Saul _ ," the boy corrected, but that was it, Baby would forever call him by the incorrect pronunciation. Saw had no way of knowing that, of course. "And you are...Baby." There was a distinct air of distaste in his voice.

"Hey, you remembered!" Baby beamed, hopping up on a table, his long legs dangling.

"How could I fucking forget."

For such a clean cut guy, Saw had a dirty mouth, Baby noted. But this suited him just fine. Baby's brothers and father were very much the same.

"Sorry about earlier." Baby shrugged carelessly. "I was in a hurry to get the hell outta here."

Saw was picking up his wood figurine again, getting back to work even as he spoke. "Must not have been in too much of a hurry. You're still here."

"Got distracted," Baby said, truthfully enough. He leaned forward, interest clear in his eyes. How often did something catch his attention like this? Almost never. But he could sense that there was something... _ special _ about the Lecter boy. "I've never seen you around before."

"That would be because I just started attending this shithole today," Saw said, calmly whittling away. His thick brows were drawn inward, strong hands working at the wood.

"But..." Baby blinked, his own brow furrowing. It was the middle of the semester. It was odd for someone to switch schools mid-year, to say the least. He wasn't sure if he should point that out. And there was a certain set to Saw Lecter's jaw that seemed to indicate that there was a sensitive story behind the transfer. So Baby, for once in his life, was tactful and said, "Well, you seem to know your way around pretty well for a newbie."

Saw was quiet for a little while, wood shavings curling around his rough fingers as he worked, before he finally said, "When I first arrived, I asked where the workshop was." He jerked his chin to indicate the room they were currently in. "I know my way around this room."

"I, um..." Baby was talking before he could think better of it. "I work in the garage sometimes. Where the kids specializing in mechanic work have their classes." This was a shameful admission; most of the people Baby knew thought he was focusing his course load on mechanical engineering.

But his real passion was cars.

Anything about cars. He was obsessed with how they worked, how to fix them, how to improve them...there was nothing about them, he thought, that would ever be boring to him. But it was demeaning work, compared to his classmates who were going to be doctors and scientists and politicians; and his father would /never/ forgive him if he found out. Baby's brother Sam was in college to be a lawyer and Dean was the Sheriff of a small town well outside of Baltimore. But still, both were very respectable professions.

A mechanic son-slash-brother wasn't exactly someone to be proud of.

Somehow, he knew Saw Lecter wouldn't scoff at his passion, and he was right. The other boy shot him a glance that was full of outright fascination. "Why? That's where the cars are, right? They work on cars? Are you good at it? What draws you to them?" The questions were like bullets aimed at Baby. In fact, they tore right through him--this was the first time anyone had ever shown interest in, well...his interest.

Baby let his bony elbows rest on his knees. Where Saw Lecter was solid, perfectly proportioned, Baby was still coming into his own, all elbows and knees. "I...find cars really interesting. They're so powerful and fast. I'm good at it, yeah. I  _ should _ be, I've been doing it since Freshman year! I like to take something broken and make it whole again."

It felt like...something very  _ personal _ , this admission. Baby felt a shiver work through him. But it was out there now, too late to take back.

But Saw nodded as if this made perfect sense to him. "I like to create things. I like to draw, as well as this." He held up the knife he was using to shape the wood. "It's interesting, isn't it? The things that you can bring to life?"

Baby opened his mouth--suddenly dry--and then closed it again before finally saying, "You wanna come over and hang out?"

He'd never before invited someone over. The Winchesters stayed in motel rooms; John had his own, and the brothers, Sam and Baby (Dean having long moved out) shared one, the two rooms linked by a door in between. Though in his life, Baby had lived in worse places, it still wasn't exactly the kind of place you brought other people into. It was a secret, and a shameful one.

And yet he felt the need to share it with this strange, serious boy.

Saw Lecter tilted his head, said, "All right," and history was set in motion.

 


	2. Pause It, Play It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saul Lecter doesn't like people touching him. (Baby Winchester doesn't like people touching Saul, either.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bentley belongs to Twitter user @HanniVroom  
> Knife belongs to Twitter user @LectersKnife  
> Wendy belongs to Twitter user @WendyLecter
> 
> Though she isn't named, the unlucky girl mentioned later in this chapter is Alis Riddle, who belongs to Twitter user @AlisRiddle

Several months later, "Saw" Lecter and Baby Winchester were inseparable.

You couldn't say ones name without saying the other. They came to school together, both riding in Baby's beat up old '97 model Camaro, Baby always driving recklessly and Saw always scowling at Baby's careless driving.

They didn't take the same classes, but they made a point to have lunch together through very clever timing, and when the school day was over, Saw took his tools of choice--either for woodworking or art--to the schools' garage, where Baby typically worked on cars for an hour before they drove home together.

Okay, so usually they drove to Baby's rented motel room. There, they'd play video games and eat and joke around and basically fuck around.

One afternoon in late March, Baby was messing with a transmission when it occured to him that he had never been to Saw's house.

"Hey, Boss," Baby said, for this was the nickname Baby had designated Saw with. As if his mispronunciation of his name wasn't enough. But Baby was the kind of guy who made up nicknames for everyone. He has chosen "Boss" because it seemed like something you would call someone in a position of authority, and Saw Lecter, to Baby's mind, had authority over him; he could tell Baby to do anything and he would do it.

It was funny how only a few months of knowing someone could create a powerful obsession.

And Baby  _ was _ obsessed. He'd never admit it to himself, but he thought of Saw night and day. When he woke up, the first thought on his mind was the other boy, and when he went to sleep at night it was to the same thought.

"What," Saw said, looking up at Baby from his sketch pad. They were both in Baby's car, Baby behind the wheel, Saw in the passenger seat, bent over a drawing of what looked to be a dismembered woman. Baby was used to these kinds of disturbing images; shock value was a major influence on Saw's artwork.

"I've never been to  _ your _ place," Baby pointed out. They were stuck in the long line of cars waiting to get out of Baltimore State School for the Academically Gifted's parking lot. There really wasn't anything else to do except for listen to music. And  _ that  _ wasn't any fun, except for aesthetically, because Saw always insisted on classical and Baby always insisted on classical  _ rock _ , so while their playlist was ecclectic, it was also just really weird.

Mozart versus Metallica, anyone?

"..." Saw said, and at that point, Baby knew something was rotten in Denmark.

"Spill," he said.

"My father is Hannibal Lecter," Saw said bluntly. Saw said  _ everything _ bluntly, like a rock hitting one in the face, but this particular tidbit actually made contact with Baby's face, twisting his features into shock.

Dr. Lecter was the most famous gourmet chef (slash dietician) in the country.

How did Baby know this? Because Dr. Lecter had his own television show, and Baby's brother, Sam, watched it religiously between 8 and 9 am.

"Ah," he said, and then, "Boss, why the fuck didn't you  _ tell  _ me that. It's kind of important. Also, wow, your dad is famous."

"Yes," Saw said, eyeing Baby carefully.

"This could make our lives complicated," Baby said. "No, we shouldn't tell anyone. Keep your mouth shut."

At that, Saw's eyes brightened up. "You...you really don't want to tell anyone?"

"Hell fucking no," Baby said.

"But...why." The dead way Saw said it made Baby furrow his brow. There was a story behind that tone.

“Because if I did tell anyone, they'd tell everyone _else_ , and then we'd never get any peace. People'd be stalking you through the hallways.”

“Kind of like you?” Saw shot Baby a look as Baby finally pulled out onto the highway running along the front of the school.

“No. _They'd_ be trying to take your picture or get you to get your dad's autograph for them.” Baby held Saw's gaze for a moment, then looked away. “There was this kid when I was a sophomore. Her mom was some kind of socialite celebrity. When everyone found out, she ended up having to transfer schools. You don't wanna have to transfer, do you?”

“...No.”

“Okay. Exactly. So don't tell anyone else, and I won't tell them either.”

Saw was silent for a while. Without thinking about it, Baby was instinctively heading for the turn off that was the beginning of the route to the motel but suddenly Saw's rough voice piped up. “Keep going straight.”

And that was how, ten minutes later, Baby found himself looking up at the biggest house he'd ever seen in person. He was intimidated both by its size and the fact that he hadn't been prepared for the kind of lifestyle his friend was clearly accustomed to. Saw lead him in through a garage—though it was bigger than most people's _houses—_ catering to Baby's car fixation. There was a BMW, a Camaro, a Porsche, a Bentley...Baby couldn't even fathom the kind of income Dr. Lecter must have to own cars like that.

“These belong to my siblings,” Saw explained in a bland tone, passing into the actual house and waiting with his arms crossed for Baby to quit oggling the vehicles.

This comment finally got Baby to tear his attention away from the smooth curves of the Porsche and hurry to catch up to the other boy. “You have siblings? You never told me!”

Saw knew just about everything about Baby's family. This struck Baby as intrinsically unfair, that he'd had no clue about the existence of other people sharing Saw's DNA.

“Two brothers and a sister.” Saw stared straight ahead as they walked. “Bentley, Knife, and Wendy. They aren't here right now.”

Something about how... _sterile_ the house was made Baby think that the siblings—and probably Dr. Lecter, too—weren't home very often at all. It saddened him to think of Saw all alone in this big, very fancy but also very devoid of comfort house. It was beautiful, but there were none of the little personal affects that make a house into a home.

Even the Winchesters' motel rooms were more homey.

At least Saw's room—rooms, there were _two_ of them, connected by an open archway—had a more personal touch. The outer room was set up with Saw's woodworking and welding stuff, and was actually pretty messy, wood shavings everywhere, tools scattered all over the place. The Inner Sanctum (there was no way Baby was going to call it anything but that) had a big bed, a few chairs, and three whole bookcases filled with books, in addition to the random books left on the floor.

Saw sat in one of the chairs, an uneasy expression upon his face. Baby knew him enough by now to realize that he was waiting for Baby's judgment, whether spoken or unspoken.

“I like it,” Baby said decisively. And he did; the space spoke very much to Saw's interests, and it looked lived in, loved. He sat down on the floor opposite his friend, crossing his legs and leaning forward, though he was careful not to let any part of himself accidentally knock up against the boy.

This was due to Saw's haphephobia.

If anyone had said the word to Baby a few months ago, he would have promptly replied, “Bless you.” But he'd learned, _very_ soon after meeting Saul Lecter, that he had a severe and almost debilitating fear of anyone touching him. It was for this reason that he had been so cold upon their first meeting...though truthfully, Saw could be rather cold with anyone he didn't know.

Baby had seen the effects of the phobia firsthand. Some chick with short black hair and big brown doe eyes had accidentally fallen against Saw in the hallway one day. Usually, Saw was careful to only walk through the school at quiet times long after the rush between classes; he even had a special doctor's order and permission from the Main Office to be late to all of his _own_ classes. But this particular day, he had lingered by Baby's locker as Baby frantically searched for his Advanced Statistics and Modeling book. His shoulder had been resting on the metal locker door next to Baby's and they'd been talking about nothing of real importance, and out of nowhere this girl came careening into him, grabbing at Saw's arm to try to balance herself.

The effect had been immediate. He'd freaked the fuck out.

Baby had caught the poor girl as Saw flung her away from him, bristling like an angry cat. His eyes had been wide and panicked, breaths punched out of him in harsh bursts, face white as a bowl of rice. He'd cursed and turned on his heel, walking away, shaking the entire time. Baby had called after him, but he had just lifted one hand in an angry little parting wave.

That was why Baby was always very careful to respect Saw's boundaries (and he respected no one else's; this was a testament to the high esteem he held Saw in, though Saw himself was both bemused and incredulous about Baby's “illogical idolism,” as he called it).

“So what now?” Baby grinned up at his friend. He was thinking they'd probably end up doing what they usually did—talk about random topics, eat their parents out of house and home, do their homework.

To his surprise and confusion, Saw slid onto the floor, sitting right in front of Baby, mirroring the way he was sitting. The look he was giving Baby was so deadly serious that it put Baby on edge.

“Just don't fucking move,” Saw said, and then he reached over and rested his hand on Baby's forearm.

 

 


	3. I Think We Better Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Saul has social obligations and Baby just has a lot of feelings, okay?

The touch was like a static shock—at least to Baby. All of the hair on his arms stood straight up, as if he'd walked out of a warm room into an icestorm.

It wasn't a sexual feeling. Baby had had a lot of those. For Christ's sake, he was _seventeen_ , he was pretty much a walking erection.

But this was different. It was unlike anything he'd ever experienced and it shook him to the center of his being.

He stayed very still, staring at Saw who was staring back at him like Baby was a ghost. The other boy's body was wracked with tremors; he was clearly pushing himself, _forcing_ himself to keep up the contact though it was making him start to hyperventilate.

“Saw,” Baby said quietly. “It's okay. You don't have to.”

“I w-want to,” Saw said back, his expression filled with terror.

That was how Dr. Lecter found them, sitting across from one another and staring intently, Saw's hand shaking but stubbornly remaining in contact with Baby's arm.

When the door opened, Saw jerked his hand away, looking guilty. Baby's brow furrowed in confusion but he instantly flushed when he realized they'd been interrupted; he wasn't sure _why_ he felt so embarrassed, but he was all the same.

Dr. Lecter was a tall man with perfect posture and perfect hair—actually, everything about him was perfect and planned. He definitely had a presence. Even though the room was so big, Dr. Lecter seemed, somehow, to take up most of it.

“Hello, Saul,” the doctor said, his calm gaze flicking from his son to Baby. Saw went oddly blank, withdrawing into himself. When he replied, his voice was just as placid and cool as Dr. Lecter's.

“Father.”

“I came to tell you that we will be going to your brother's charity event this evening. Who is your friend?”

Instinctively, Baby sat up straighter. Something about Dr. Lecter—even if he _hadn't_ been an outrageously wealthy television personality with a medical degree—made one want to be on ones best behavior.

“Ba...I-I mean, Paul Winchester, sir.” Was he supposed to stand up and try to shake Dr. Lecter's hand? Maybe bow? Ask for his blessing? Jesus Christ he didn't fucking know and the man wasn't even doing anything, but Baby was so nervous.

“It's a pleasure to meet you,” Dr. Lecter said, so polite Baby was tempted to put on a tux and drink a cup of tea with his pinky sticking out just to keep up. “I'm happy that my son has been making...friends.”

Something about the way he said it, and the painfully nonjudgmental way he looked between the two of them made it clear that Dr. Lecter meant something else entirely different than “friends”.

“I don't want to go to Bentley's party,” Saw said before Baby could think of a way to gracefully point out that his and Saw's relationship was completely platonic. There was a stubborn set to Saw's shoulders that Baby rarely saw.

The doctor was unperturbed. “Invite your friend. You know it's important to your brother for you to be there, Saul.” He paused. “I expect you to be there.”

The way he said it was the way another person might say, “Be there _or else_.”

After his dad left, Saw slumped over, tugging at his hair in frustration. “God _damn_ it.”

“Hey, man, how bad can it be?” Parties were, in Baby's experience, fun times for all involved, particularly if there was alcohol involved (though his _own_ dad would skin him if he knew that Baby drank). Though he could imagine that Saw wouldn't like the noise, or the press of bodies. And now that he thought about it, he didn't really like the idea of random strangers touching his friend. Or anyone touching him, actually.

Weird.

“It's not _that_ kind of party,” Saw said in a disgruntled way, as if he could read Baby's mind. (Baby really hoped he couldn't read the part about not wanting anyone in the history of ever to touch Saw.) “My brother Bentley is the CEO of a big auto company. These parties are just wealthy people showing off to each other.”

If he isn't the CEO of Bentley Motors, Baby thought, there is something wrong with the universe.

Out loud, he said, “Do I need to dress up or something?” He didn't even own a suit; the Winchesters were laissez-faire about social events.

The look Saw shot him was filled with shock. “...You actually want to come with me?”

Like Baby would ever let his friend go into battle alone. “Sure. Why not?” He shrugged. “I've never been to a rich people charity thingy. Let's do this.”

 


	4. We're Dressed in Black From Head to Toe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Underage drinking is bad for you, mmkay? Or, Saul and Baby party like it's 1999. Kind of.

As usual, Saw had been right; this wasn't the kind of party Baby had been thinking of.

There were a lot of very attractive people in very attractive clothing, mingling together and talking about shit that Baby was far too uncultured to understand or give a fuck about. He was bored in under ten minutes.

In contrast, Saw didn't look bored at all. He was wearing a dark gray Dolce and Gabbana suit with a deep, navy blue shirt only a few shades darker than his eyes, a blood-red tie neatly tucked into a matching gray vest. When Baby had first seen Saw in the suit, he'd stared mutely for a few moments before catching himself and playing it off with, “Hey, you clean up good, buddy!”

Saw had smirked, giving Baby a quick once over and saying, “You actually look like someone I wouldn't be afraid to meet in a dark alley.”

And Baby did, for once, look respectable. His suit (Gucci, worth more than everything the Winchesters owned put together, except for Dean's '67 Chevy) was black, with a deep gray shirt underneath and a black tie that he was sure was strangling him. When Saw had picked it out for him, he'd balked.

“I can't take your clothes!” There had been a price tag still on it. Baby had balked even more. “This thing cost over two thousand dollars!”

“So don't get anything on it, asshole,” Saw had said, throwing it at him like it hadn't cost _over two thousand dollars_.

No, Saw didn't look bored. He looked like he was about to bolt at any moment.

“ _Relax_ ,” Baby hissed, taking in the way Saw's hands kept clenching and unclenching, the rigidity of his posture. People were giving them odd looks.

“Fuck you,” Saw mumbled, “ _you_ don't have to make nice to these people.”

Before he could retort, Baby noticed a tall, imposing man making his way over to the two of them. The crowd parted in his wake like water. He carried himself with effortless authority, as if he expected respect and if he didn't get it, you would regret it.

There was a soft curse from beside Baby, Saw looking even more hunted, if that was even possible.

“Saul,” the man said when he was close to the two boys. “I'm so glad you came.” He didn't even look at Baby, who slouched a little, sticking his hands in the pockets of his borrowed slacks.

“Yeah,” Saw replied in a voice pitched higher than usual. “H-hi, Bentley.”

So _this_ was the hotshot CEO who was hosting the event, and Saw's (obviously elder) brother.

The tension between the brothers was so strong it could benchpress one of the cars Bentley Lecter's company manufactured.

“Well then,” Bentley said, looking disappointed for some reason. “Have a good time, brother. The Perriet Jouet is fantastic. Try some.” And with that, he walked away, sucked back into the party.

“The fuck was he talking about,” Baby said incredulously.

“Champagne,” Saw muttered, relaxing infinitismally. “Which actually wouldn't be remiss right about now.” He started walking, skirting around the edges of the room instead of cutting straight across it like his brother, and Baby followed him, sticking to him like a shadow.

Something really must be wrong, Baby thought. Saw never drank. When they got to a table with a row of dark green bottles and a dude in a retarded looking tuxedo, Saw gave a curt nod and the man poured them each a glass of the bubbly golden liquid. Baby took one and sniffed at it suspiciously. Saw took one and grabbed a whole bottle for good measure, before taking off again, this time in the opposite direction.

Five minutes later, they weren't even _at_ the party anymore. Saw had put as much distance between himself and the other partygoers as possible without getting in a car and leaving. They were on the roof of the building the event was being hosted in, the fire escape door propped open behind them so they wouldn't get trapped up there by the automatic locking mechanism installed on said door. It was a cool night, but not cold. The boys sat down and Baby sprawled his lanky legs out and Saw loosened his tie and that was that.

“So...” Baby took a cautious sip of the champagne. It tasted _nothing_ like the cheap beers he was used to. Instead, it was light and sweet, and delicious. He was gratified when Saw placed the bottle between them. “What was that all about?”

“What?” Saw gave him a wary look, drinking from his own glass with an expression of disgust. (How could he make that face, this stuff was _awesome_.)

“With...you know, your brother. You guys seemed kinda...” Baby didn't even know how to complete that sentence without it being awkward. There were some subjects, he'd learned, that Saw didn't really like to talk about. His touch phobia was one. His family was, apparently, another.

“We are 'kinda',” Saw replied wryly, making fun of Baby's hesitation. At least he didn't seem angry.

“How come?” Sam, Dean and Baby were all very close, having grown up together in tiny spaces and with only each other and their father for reliable companionship, considering John's job took him all over the country. The idea of brothers not being comfortable around each other seemed very odd to him.

“It's my fault.” There was sadness in Saw's voice as he looked down at his hands, holding them out and just...looking. They were nice hands, Baby thought, strong and capable, covered in little nicks and scrapes and callouses from the work Saw did with them. “It hurts Bentley that I won't— _can't_ \--let him touch me.”

“Even your _brother_ can't touch you?”

Wordlessly, Saw filled up his glass again, and Baby grabbed the bottle to do the same.

“You know that's not really your fault, right?” There was a beat where Baby waited for Saw to agree, and when he didn't, he frowned at him. “It's _not_. You can't help that you have a phobia.”

“What else am I supposed to think?” With a sigh, Saw finished off his glass in one long gulp and flopped down to lie on his back, wiggling around a little to get comfortable. “It's certainly not _his_ fault. He's just trying to be a good brother and I keep hurting him. I hurt him, every single day, just with my existence. How do you think that makes me feel?”

Slowly, Baby layed back, staring up at the coffee black sky. From up here, with the city lights so far below them, the stars were visible. It felt intimate, somehow, to lie in the dark with another person. “Shitty.”

“The only person I can touch is my sister Wendy, and even she...” Saw shook his head. “It took _years_ for me to be able to let her.”

“But she was able to eventually, right?” His head was spinning a little with the champagne, his arms lying limply by his sides. He thought he could see Orion's belt. “So _logically_ , if you keep trying with Bentley...it'll happen. One day.”

Saw was silent. When Baby looked over at him, he had a surprisingly relaxed expression on his face. Maybe the champagne was doing its work on him, too.

A minute later, Baby knew for a _fact_ that this was the case because Saw's hand was brushing his.

He'd never held hands with a guy before. Some of Baby's past girlfriends had been into hand-holding, but he'd never seen the appeal himself. It seemed so _pointless_. But a thrill went through him at the touch of Saw's fingers over the tender skin of Baby's open palm. Saw's skin was scratchy and rough, but his hand was warm when he finally rested it in Baby's. Amazingly, he wasn't even having a silent freak out. Baby watched him the whole time and he never even flinched, looking calm, if perhaps still upset about his brother.

Baby was far from calm. His heart was pounding hard enough that it was the only thing he could hear and he almost missed it when Saw said, “Maybe you're right. I won't give up. Thank you for saying that.”

“Y-you're welcome,” Baby said, disturbed the the tremor in his own voice. He wondered if it was really okay to be doing this, the hand holding thing, with his best friend. In the end, he was enjoying it too much to pull away. He was too afraid that _Saw_ would pull away to mention anything about it, so they laid there in a mostly comfortable silence for a few minutes. The only sounds were the distant purr of traffic from the street far below, the occasional police siren, and the beating of their hearts.

And then the fire escape door slammed shut.


	5. Guns Hidden Under Our Petticoats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friendship can be hard. So can falling in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dodger belongs to Twitter user @Sams_Nice_Car

Dodger was not enjoying himself.

He always felt uncomfortable at these sorts of events. And Bentley, his employer (and his lover, though no one knew that), had a lot of them. It's not like Dodger was _required_ to attend; unlike Bentley, Dodger was from a comfortably middle class background. He'd worked his way up to be the personal assistant of a major auto company's CEO through sheer hard work and perserverance. But whenever Bentley invited him, he just _couldn't_ say no to those pouty lips and pale green eyes.

Bentley gave him that look on _purpose_.

“If I have to kiss the cheek of one more overly-perfumed socialite, I will cut my own lips off,” a deep voice stated very close to Dodger's ear.

He shivered. Speak of the devil...

“You love the attention,” Dodger teased, though he knew Bentley really didn't. He much preferred the control and power he had behind his desk or at board meetings; these things bored him to tears.

“I'd love some of _your_ attention,” Bentley purred back. He was standing a respectable distance from Dodger, but that was still pretty close. Dodger could feel his body heat even through the expensive material of Bentley's tasteful suit.

“It _is_ my job to take care of your needs.” This was, strictly speaking, true. Nowhere in his contract had it stated that Dodger needed to bend Bentley over his expensive mahoghany desk and take him—twice--but. Details.

It was looking like Bentley's night, though possibly soured by the awkward interaction with his little brother, was shaping up to be a good one.

Unfortunately, the same could not be said for Saw or his friend.

+++

One of the best things about being the son of a famous television star is that your father is often too busy to keep track of your every movement, such as what time you come home or even if you _do_ come home at all.

One of the best things about being the son of a guy in a rock band (for this was John Winchester's profession) is that your father doesn't give a shit what time you come home, as long as you check in every once in a while.

One of the worst things about being the son of either of these particular fathers is that if you happen to find yourself trapped on the roof of a thirty-one story building with your best friend with a charity event going on thirty floors below, no one will notice.

“This blows,” Baby groaned, kicking at the metal fire escape door. It reacted exactly like a door should—by not moving in the slightest.

“This is your fault,” Saw muttered, for once not blaming himself.

Baby offered up a few perfunctory arguments, the main one of which was it had been _Saw's_ idea to come to the roof in the first place. He thought he had a valid point, but Saw ignored him, plopping down with a defeated look.

“I don't suppose you have your—”

“I left my phone in your car,” Baby interrupted, banging his head against the door. “ _Because you told me it was rude to answer it while we were at the party and I didn't want to be tempted._ ”

When he turned around, Saw was giving him an 'Are you an idiot?' look.

This was a look Baby was all too familiar with receiving, but _damn it_ , this time was definitely not his fault.

Eventually, the two became resigned to the fact that they were going to be stuck up on the roof until someone opened the door from the inside—probably, Saw assured Baby, one of the janitors. In the morning.

Nine hours later.

“So what now, Boss?” Baby sat down as well. Now that they were in close proximity again, he was remembering the hand-holding that had been happening before their accidental entrapment. He was wondering if it was a fluke, brought on by a little too much alcohol and the anonymity of the darkness, or if it actually meant anything.

Surely not. Saw had said it had taken his own sister years to be able to comfortably touch him. Why should it be any different for Baby?

“Might as well get some sleep.” Saw was shrugging off the jacket of his suit, folding it up into a neat square before lying down with it under his cheek. In the darkness, his familiar features were barely visible.

Reluctantly, Baby did the same thing, bunching his up into a ball and lying beside Saw. He could tell that the other boy's eyes were closed. For a very long time—longer than he wanted to think about—he stared at his calm face, until he finally succumbed to sleep.

Baby Winchester awoke to warm sunlight on his face, a terrible ache in his back, a rock hard erection brought on by dreams of Taylor Momsen, and his best friend wrapped around him like a dead koala.

He blinked a few times, trying to remember where he was and _why_ he was there, and as things began to come back to him, he blanched.

It's okay, he thought to himself. Just morning wood, nothing weird about that. It really had nothing to do with Saw. It totally didn't matter that the other boy was currently breathing hot and slow against his neck, his own hardness pressing against Baby's thigh.

“...Hey. Hey. _Hey._ ” No matter how loud Baby said it, Saw's eyelids didn't even flicker. In fact, he clung to Baby tighter. After so long of being painfully careful about touching him, this kind of contact was blowing Baby's mind like a nuclear bomb going off in his brain.

Baby allowed himself one moment of weakness. He nuzzled Saw's hair, letting the thick black strands brush his nose, inhaling the clean scent of his shampoo. When he pulled away, Saw had woken up all on his own and was staring at Baby blankly.

What do you say in situations like this, Baby wondered to himself. 'Hey, dude, sorry my boner touched yours. It isn't gay if our balls don't make contact.' Somehow, Baby didn't think that would go over well.

He didn't get a chance to find out how it would have gone over. The fire escape door was scraping open and he and Saw pushed away from each other like two magnets of opposite poles.

“Ahahahhaha~” Baby stood up, brushing himself off and grabbing his suit jacket. He waved at the bemused janitor who was looking back and forth between the two of them with eyebrows raised so high they were disappearing into his receding hairline. “So we, uh, got stuck up here, but now we're not stuck, so we're just gonna...go home now. Not to the same home. Different homes.”

Calmly, Saw walked past him, his own jacket thrown over his shoulders, ignoring the janitor completely. With an awkward cough, Baby hurried after him.

After this incident, two things happened.

One, Saw was suddenly able to touch Baby without having a panic attack. It was astounding to both of them. “I can't believe it,” Saw said on multiple occasions. “I wish I could study what the catalyst for my ability to do this was. Was it the alcohol, do you think?”

(Baby just enjoyed being touched by his friend, and accepted it as a gift from the universe.)

The second thing was that Baby realized his feelings for Saw might not be entirely, totally, completely, one hundred percent friendly.

They already had a very intense, very _close_ bond. But...suddenly, Baby found himself wondering what it would be like to kiss the cute little quirk of Saw's lips. It worried him, that he thought things like this. He'd always liked girls, and he knew that _Saw_ liked girls, when he could be bothered to like anyone at all. Baby wasn't even sure if Saw had ever had sex before.

Baby hadn't, though he would have cut out his tongue before he admitted it. He swore up and down, when pressed (mostly by his brother Dean), that he'd slept with Anna Milton in the tenth grade. This was true. He had slept in the same bed as her once, though in the end they had broken up before he'd ever gotten anywhere near her _shirt_ , let alone her pants.

The weekend after the Roof Incident, Baby, for the first time _ever_ , began to actively avoid Saw.


	6. Building Up Speed As We're Approaching the Hill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baby frustrates himself. (NSFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The girls Baby references are based on Twitter users @MiltonAnna, @AngelicKatelyn, and @hells_nostalgia
> 
> I made an A. E. Housman reference, let's see if anyone catches it

It's a lazy Saturday morning. Buttery yellow sunlight is streaming in through the window. Oddly enough, Baby is in the big bed taking up half of the half of Saul Lecter's bedroom and not in the creaky motel bed he's used to. This bed is a California King, bigger than anything Baby has ever slept in before. It's so soft that he feels like he's sinking into it.

He's warm and indolent beneath the heavy down comforter, and there are arms wrapped around his waist. He twists around and finds himself face to face with

(Anna, Katelyn, Samantha call-me-Sammy)

none of his ex-girlfriends, but instead his best friend, the same Saul— _Saw_ Lecter who owns the bed they are both lying in.

“I shook his hand, and tore my heart in sunder, and went with half my life about my ways,” Saw says with a sad smile, and Baby scowls.

“No,” he says. “I am in love with you.”

The words are barely out before Saw is on him, pressing their lips together. It's sweet and soft and pure until it _isn't_ , Baby rolling Saw into the too-soft mattress, the comforter falling off of their (startlingly unclothed) bodies.

For some reason, Baby isn't perturbed by this evolution in their relationship. He goes with it, his tongue curling around Saw's in a kiss that is no longer even remotely fraternal. They come together, fall apart, come back together in a collision of lips and teeth and tongue. Baby can feel Saw's erection pressing against his hipbone, probably as painful as the one Baby himself is sporting.

Baby shifts so their members are in direct contact with one another, groaning at the feel of it, the hair all along the back of his neck standing up. He's masturbated plenty of times—more times than he can count, really—but it's never been _close_ to the raw need he feels now.

For his part, Saw is dragging his lips along Baby's jaw, mouthing at his stubble, Baby's name on his lips. The way he says Baby's name, Baby thinks, is unlike anything else he's ever heard in his entire life. He could listen to those syllables on the other boy's lips forever.

There's some kind of time lapse, and Baby loses himself for a moment and when he comes _back_ , he's got his legs spread, straddling Saw's waist but hovering over him, his friend's cock slick at his entrance. Baby would never in a hundred thousand years picture himself as a “bottom”.

Technically, he's still on top.

Slowly—carefully, because he's never done this before and it _hurts—_ Baby sinks down, his chest heaving with his heavy breathing, temple beading with sweat. It...it does hurt, it does, but the look on Saw's face is so worth it, the way his eyes roll into the back of his head, the sweaty sheen over his skin giving away how he's just as affected as Baby. It seems to take forever for Baby to get all of it in, his ass making contact with Saw's thighs and at that point he knows he's done it, he's gotten Saw all the way in. He's filled up.

He stares, completely wrecked, and then Saw's smooth voice is growling at him, “C'mon, _move_.”

His stomach flips and Baby's hips jerk. The slight shift in position makes Saw's dick hit something that, in turn, makes Baby's vision almost black out. “A-ah--!” Is the most intelligent thing he manages to say.

And then Baby is moving his hips, flexing his thighs, working himself up and down over his best friend who probably will be needing a new title, soon—like “lover” or “sex god”--and he's letting himself fall down on Saw's thick cock, white stars behind his eyelids, his own cries filling up the room because Baby has never known how to keep his mouth shut--

He's--

He's so close, he--

He wakes up.

He wakes up and curses _violently_.


	7. You Say You're Gonna Quit It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saul figures it out.

[text message, November 03, 2014, 11:42 PM]

Are you all right...?

//

[text message, November 03, 2014, 11:43 PM]

hey buddy. yeah. i'm good. why?

//

[text message, November 03, 2014, 11:44 PM]

Well, we haven't talked in several days. This is unusual for us.

//

[text message, November 03, 2014, 11:49 PM]

been busy, man.

//

[text message, November 03, 2014, 11:50 PM]

Busy with what, exactly?

//

[text message, November 04, 2014, 1:23 PM]

you know. things.

//

[text message, November 04, 2014, 1:24 PM]

Baby, we always go to Friday's on Saturday. For irony, remember? We haven't been for the last two weeks. Why?

//

[text message, November 04, 2014, 5:03 PM]

dude...idk, sometimes things just come up.

+++

Saw didn't text him anymore after that. All the rest of Saturday and Sunday, Baby stayed holed up in his motel room with Sam, pestering his brother for lack of anything better to do.

Well, anything better that was _safe_.

On Monday morning, he drove to school and drifted through his classes as was his wont lately.

Monday afternoon, as he was taking his usual route through the deserted hallways in the “Retard District,” Saw reached out and grabbed the back of his shirt, bringing Baby up short.

They were alone in the hallway, just them and afternoon sunlight, motes of dust dancing in the air.

“Hey,” Baby said, trying to be casual as he turned around to face him—the boy he called his friend but who was really something much, much more special.

There wasn't a word for what Saw was to Baby.

“You're avoiding me,” Saw stated bluntly, stepping closer to Baby, who automatically stepped back.

“That ridiculous,” Baby said, and, “Why would I ever avoid you?”

“Because you're in love with me,” Saw said.

There was a retort on Baby's lips that instantly died at the other boy's words. Afternoon sunlight was painting the empty (aside from them) hallway a deep gold. Sunlight was shining into Saw's eyes, transforming the usual cool blue-gray to something almost warm.

How had Saw figured it out?

Baby squared his shoulders, drawing himself up to his full height—which was exactly the same as Saw's.

“Yeah,” he said. “I am.”

“I don't feel the same,” Saw said frankly, and Baby felt his heart shatter. Of course.

Of course.

“It's okay.” Baby could hear himself speaking but the words sounded like those of a stranger. His usual low, rough voice was even rougher than was typical for him. He was grasping onto the straps of his backpack compulsively, knuckles going white. Was this his life? Could this be happening? The fact was, a part of him had been hoping that, somehow, when he said those words to Saw—when he admitted to his feelings—Saw would reciprocate in some way, however small. But there was a blandness to Saw's gaze that Baby didn't know how to deal with. Like he was intentionally distancing himself.

“I love you, I do,” Saw was saying, “but I don't have romantic feelings towards you. Or sexual feelings, either.”

“It's okay,” Baby said again, both mortified and heart-broken but managing a careless smile, his grief pushed so deep down that it felt like it was making a home at the base of his spine, bending his back a little. It was the kind of grief that was so strong it couldn't help but be physical.

“We can still be friends,” he said, a certain confidence to his tone that he didn't really feel. “It's just a phase, you know? Just a silly phase. It'll pass.”

This was a full out lie, but Baby hoped to God Saw didn't pick up on it. He couldn't imagine Saw walking away from their friendship. It would probably kill him.

For a few tense moments, the two boys stared at each other, thinking their own separate thoughts.

Finally, with a single nod of his head, Saw stepped forward, eyes still haunted by sunlight. “Okay. I trust you.” He looked down, twisting his hands together. “...I've missed you. Things aren't as fun without you.”

With a small noise, Baby threw his arms around Saw, drawing him into a tight hug. Saw was hugging him back just as tightly, shaking a little—though not in fear.

“We need each other,” Baby murmured into his friend's ear, breathing in his scent for the first time in weeks. It was enough to ease some of the tension that had been building inside of him like a wave finally cresting. “I'm so sorry. When this is all over, we'll be just like we were, okay?”

“Yeah,” Saw murmured against Baby's shoulder, clinging to the words like a lifeline.

Little did either of them know how drastically their lives were about to change.


	8. And My Car Smells Like Chocolate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baby and Saul both get girlfriends. Sam confronts Baby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Abigail is based off of Twitter user @actual_shrike

Wendy was a revenge-girlfriend.

Baby had met her in detention. _She_ wasn't in detention of course. She was a proctor, there to monitor the students when Chilton stepped out. Baby hadn't realized that Saw's sister attended the same school as them, or even that she was the same age. But when he found out that that was, indeed, who she was, he had immediately come on to her.

He was suffering from what is commonly known as a broken heart.

This was because Saw had started dating a girl named Abigail Hobbs two weeks before. Baby hated Abigail Hobbs with the kind of intensity people usually reserved for someone who had killed their parents or run over their dog repeatedly.

When Saw had first told him that he was seeing her, Baby had said, “But _how_. You can't touch anyone except your sister and me.”

“You told me if I kept trying, I could do it,” Saw had pointed out.

At night, Baby would lie awake in bed, tortured by the thought of Abigail Hobbs touching Saul Lecter.

It was ridiculous.

So when he met Wendy Lecter, and the quirk of her smile was the same as Saw's, and she blushed when he told her that her hair was pretty—he knew that he was going to ask her out.

He'd had girlfriends before. The feeling of belonging to someone was nice; admittedly, Baby almost always cheated on the girls he was with or outright left them for brighter, greener pastures, but while in the middle of a relationship, he had the time of his life.

He wasn't having the time of his life with Wendy because he was too busy thinking about his best friend.

Every time he leaned in to kiss her—and she was so pretty, so sweet with a tinge of naughtiness—he was thinking of Saw, of how his dreams were still haunted by the other boy. How often, in the afternoons when they hung out in the garage, Saw bent over his sketchbook, too busy to engage in their typical random chatter, Baby would pretend to be working on a transmission or something when in reality he would be staring at a certain slant of shadow on Saw's face. A certain expression. Any expression.

All of Saw's were beautiful to him.

“You're dating my _sister_ ,” Saw had said when Baby had come to him with the news.

“Dude, I didn't _know_ she was your sister,” Baby had lied.

But eventually, Saw had gotten used to the idea, even if Baby had not. And that was how they spent winter break, in their respective relationships, Saw trying to psyche himself into touching Abigail and Baby trying to pretend that he was in love with Wendy.

When they came back for the end of their junior year, Saw told Baby that he was thinking of applying to the same college as Abigail.

“Dartmouth makes my father happy, as well,” Saw said as part of his pitch to Baby. He had already talked about how if offered courses Saw thought he'd be interested in and how Abigail was going to be studying there.

Baby was destined for the local community college. This felt like a death knell, in a way. At the end of senior year, Saw would be going away to some fancy Ivy League and Baby would be staying here, in Baltimore, with his family and his lack of motivation and his unreturned love.

Just after Christmas, Baby broke up with Wendy. He thought for sure Saw would be upset about it—she was his _sister_ , after all. But instead, the other boy seemed relieved.

“You weren't a good match for her,” Saw explained when Baby asked him about it.

I'm not a good match for anyone, Baby thought to himself. It was hard to make a connection with anyone when you were so deeply in love with one person that you could taste it like chocolate in your mouth, melting over you sweet and dark.

+++

There was something wrong with Baby Winchester.

This is was what Sam Winchester thought to himself. He didn't bring his concerns up to Baby himself for a long time, preferring to gather evidence first.

Exhibit A: Baby was moping around like someone had run over his dog.

The Winchesters, transients as they were, had never owned a dog, so clearly Baby's _actual dog_ had not been run over. No, someone had hurt him, and badly.

Where before there was a kind of goofy charm to everything Sam's little brother did, now he was dragging himself through his days.

It was disturbing.

At first, Sam thought maybe Baby had had a falling out with John.

Really, the only people that mattered to the Winchester brothers were each other and their father. Sam knew that Dean hadn't been around in a while to fight with Baby, and _Sam_ certainly hadn't done anything to him, so it must be John.

But the more he studied the case, the more serious it seemed to become.

Exhibit B: the Lecter boy.

Though Sam was busy with his college courseload—he was still an undergraduate, but he was aiming for law school—he started to notice that when he came home in the afternoons, Baby often wasn't alone. The Lecter kid was a friend of Baby's, apparently, solemn and fiercely private, polite even though he had refused to shake Sam's hand upon first meeting him. The last name, of course, immediately struck a cord with Sam. But Baby had glared at him so much when Sam had asked the kid who his folks were that Sam had dropped the subject. Still, he was fairly certain that he was Hannibal Lecter's son. He'd heard that Dr. Lecter lived in Baltimore. At first, it seemed like perhaps the Lecter boy might be a positive influence on restless, flighty Baby.

Instead, months later, Baby had dark circles under his eyes and a nervous tic, and he rarely slept. Sam knew this because he heard the poor kid shuffling around their motel room at night, hopelessly seeking sleep.

And then there was Exhibit C: Baby's so-called love life.

He was seventeen, of course he had a love life. Even Sam, at that age, had been “sowing his wild oats” as John liked to embarrassingly say.

But Baby wasn't sowing much of anything except maybe the holes in his cheap flannel shirts every now and then.

To be fair, he had a girlfriend—a pretty little blonde named Wendy—for a few weeks. But Sam kept a stash of condoms in the bedside table that Baby was under strict instructions to use, and the package they were on hadn't even been opened.

And then when, shortly after Christmas, Baby had broken up with the girl for absolutely no reason, and yet had invited the Lecter boy to the Winchesters own meager Christmas dinner of spam, macaroni and cheese, and fruitcake....

Yeah. Sam wasn't stupid.

“Something you want to tell me?” One afternoon in early January, he finally decided to confront his brother.

Baby looked up from his physics homework, blue eyes wide and deceptively innocent. “Uh....” When Sam kept staring at him, he finally admitted, “I drank the last of the milk and put it in the fridge. I'm sorry.”

“You're in love with your best friend,” Sam accused.

“Wha.” Said Baby. And then, “No, I'm not!”

And when Sam kept staring at him, “He doesn't love _me_. Not like that.”

Suddenly it all made sense, and Sam leveled Baby with a pitying look. “Baby, love is a joint experience. You realize you're hurting this guy as much as you're hurting yourself, right?”

At that, Baby closed his notebook, looking stunned. “What?”

“It's easier to be the one who loves than the one who is loved,” Sam said. There was a grating tone of understanding in his voice, though he didn't realize it. “When you love someone, you put certain demands on them. The one who loves craves any kind of relation with the person they love. They create a kind of....fantasy world inside of themselves. You've done that, Baby. You're living in a fantasy world where you think if you hang on long enough, eventually this kid is gonna return your feelings. But you're throwing yourself against an electric fence, and you're dragging him with you.”

“That...” Baby swallowed convulsively. “You don't understand,” he said finally. “It isn't just that I love him, though I do. I wake up in the morning looking forward to his smile, and at night I lie down trying to figure out how to _make_ him smile. I want him to be happy. I want to make him happy. I'd do anything for that. I'd even step aside and let him be with someone else if it would satisfy him.” Baby's smile at this was a little bitter. “Well, obviously it would. He's with someone else, isn't he.”

“Oh, Baby...” Sam gave him a pitying look. “You'll throw away your life on someone who doesn't want you.”

He tried to say it as gently as possible. But there was still a resigned yet horrified expression on his little brother's face.

“I can't...” He turned away, standing up, walking to the lone little window in their motel room and staring outside. “I can't stop. I _can't_ stop loving him.”

And that was the last that the Winchester brothers spoke of the subject. Sam rather vaguely hoped that Baby would just move on from his (to Sam's mind, silly) crush, and Baby hoped that Sam would forget about the conversation entirely.

The latter happened.

The former did not.


	9. We Go Where Nobody Knows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saul Lecter endures a family dinner, and his own complicated feelings.

Saul Lecter was bored out of his mind.

He was sitting at the opposite end of the dining room table where his father had requested (actually, in his special way, demanded) the Lecter siblings congrugate, in between Bentley and Wendy, Knife sitting a few seats down from them with an expression that wasn't that different from Saul's own.

Bentley and Wendy were making eyes at each other. Saul couldn't even begin to guess what kind of messages were passing between his brother and his sister. They'd always had a unique bond that Saul wasn't a part of. He stared blandly at the first course of their meal, sorely missing Baby Winchester.

Saul thought of Baby often. The two were close in a way that Saul had never been close to anyone else, not even his beloved sister. When he'd found out that Baby and Wendy were seeing each other romantically, he had been privately furious, though he'd presented a smooth face to both of them.

What right did they have to indirectly reject _him_ by going to each other?

But Baby had said he didn't know Wendy and Saul were related, and Wendy had said that she wasn't aware of Baby and Saul's friendship, and Saul really hadn't had a leg to stand on. He'd retreated into the metaphorical arms of his own girlfriend, seeking comfort.

Metaphorical because he _still_ wasn't able to touch her.

Every so often, he'd attempt it. He'd lay his hand on her smooth cheek, or touch a finger to her collarbone—once, he even tried to brush a kiss to her cheek. And though his reaction wasn't as fierce as it was to other people, he wasn't able to maintain the contact without feeling sick to his stomach, face going pale, tremors working through his body.

It was probably because he was so starved for contact that Saul still allowed Baby to touch him even though he knew that sometimes, Baby interpreted their physical contact, if not in a sexual way, with romantic overtones. This was obvious from how Baby would lie in bed with Saul—rarely in Baby's motel room, because his brother Sam was often there, but oftentimes in Saul's much bigger and softer bed—and rest his hand over Saul's pulse, flat against his chest. Or he would rub their noses together, close enough to kiss, though Baby never made any move to kiss him.

Sometimes, oddly enough, this disappointed Saul.

Which was absurd. For one, Saul had no interest in males. He thought of himself as a modern man, accepting of all kinds of consensual relationships. But his personal preference was for the soft curves girls possessed, not the sharp edges that made up most of the men he knew.

Baby's sharp edges didn't seem so bad sometimes.

But aside from that, Baby was his best friend. Practically a brother. Saul wasn't close with his biological brothers, so this aspect of their relationship was very important to him. You didn't fantasize in the shower about your brother.

Not that Saul did this about Baby.

(Okay, so perhaps _once_ he had fallen against the glass door of his shower, achingly hard, and jerked himself off to the thought of Baby's smart little mouth, but that had been _just once_. He'd come so hard his toes had curled. Afterwards, he'd avoided Baby's eyes for a couple of days.)

And lastly, Saul had a girlfriend. Abigail was, to Saul's mind, the perfect match for him. She had long dark hair, shadowed ocean blue eyes, and an insatiable sexual appetite. Saul was aware of its existence, but unable to satisfy her in the way she wanted. It was rather difficult when he couldn't touch her without breaking out in a cold sweat.

“Is it me?” Abi always looked so sad when they had these conversations. “Is it something that's wrong with me?”

And Saul would have to explain that it wasn't Abigail's fault. It was his.

It was _always_ his fault.

“How have you been, dear,” Wendy was asking now, to Knife, who was twenty-two and rarely home. The only reason they were all home at the moment was because Dr. Lecter had specifically requested it. He had these whims, at times, the desire for all of his children to eat at the same table—to play at being a family.

Knife Lecter was even more withdrawn and cool than the other Lecter siblings. He was tall with sandy hair more on the ash side than Baby's golden mop of hair, and eyes that were so pale they often made complete strangers stop and stare at him. All of the Lecters were attractive, but Knife was _striking_. His personality, however, could be offputting. He stared back at Wendy with calm detachment. “Do you even know what I am majoring in?” He sniffed. “Do you even know what a major _is_ , or were you planning to marry into money.” There was clear disdain in his voice.

“Knife,” Dr. Lecter said calmly. Despite his tone, the warning was clear: rudeness would not be tolerated at the Lecter table.

Saul went to his happy place in his mind. His happy place was the garage at Baltimore State School for the Academically Gifted. It was here that Baby Winchester was at his most confident, working for hours at a time either bent down and peering under the hoods of cars, or lying on his back underneath them, taking them apart and putting them back together.

Sometimes, Saul thought that Baby was taking _him_ apart, only to put him back together.

Saul had an entire sketchbook dedicated to drawings of Baby that were drafted during the hours they spent in the school's garage. He'd never show Baby this; he had a feeling that his proclivity for drawing his best friend might be misinterpreted, either as something creepy or as a romantic overture.

“...if you'd open a book every now and then, you would know...” Knife was on a tangent, and Bentley and Wendy were both tuning him out, politely spearing their shrimp on their silver forks and bringing them to their lips almost in tandem. Bentley winked at Wendy.

Saul wasn't in love with his best friend, of this he was sure.

Once, he had read an explanation of romantic love that had profoundly shaped the way he viewed it. It consisted of two people standing on opposite edges of a canyon, both wearing parachutes. The release for the parachutes were on their backs. Only the _other_ person could release them. If the two were willing, they could jump at the same time and release each other's parachutes.

But the thing was, there were so many contigencies. Stray breezes, the possibility of tripping, any kind of hesitation--

Anything could happen to destroy love and dash it on the rocks below.

Saul wasn't willing to take this chance, even if he had been sexually attracted to Baby. Which he wasn't.

Not very much, anyway.

“I was glad to see you at the auction,” Bentley was saying to him in his calm, even voice, and Saul looked up from his mostly untouched plate. Bentley meant the charity event from several weeks ago. It was the last time they had seen each other.

Saul thought of being stuck with Baby on the roof, of waking up and being wrapped up in and around another person. It had been one of the oddest sensations the touch-deprived boy had ever felt.

And one of the most intense.

“It was...fun,” Saul said carefully.

“Who was the boy accompanying you?” Bentley's piercing golden gaze seemed to see right through Saul.

My friend, Saul thought. My brother. My entire life. But what he said out loud was, “No one of import. The Perriet Jouet was very good, brother.”


	10. We're Never Gonna Quit It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything must come to an end. Even high school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who read this and gave me tips. I'm so glad you liked it!

Time goes by. And so it goes.

Seasons went by, slowly, inexorably. When you're a teenager, time seems to pass both too fast and too slow.

Before Baby knew it, graduation was only a few days away.

His dad was so proud of him. Ever since Dean had decided to skip high school and get his GED, John had been particular about stressing to his boys how important a proper education was. (Though he never seemed to catch the irony of this, coming from a _professional rock star_. Well, perhaps John wasn't a _star_ , but he was well-known all the same and whenever he started elaborating on the benefits of the _real_ high school experience, Sam and Baby would exchange bemused looks.)

Saw had been accepted into Dartmouth. The news had made Baby force a smile; though he was proud of his friend, he also recognized that this meant they would be separated in a way they hadn't been yet. Abigail Hobbs had been accepted, too.

They're going to get married, Baby thought to himself. They're going to run off into the sunset together, and I'm going to be stuck here in Baltimore.

It was almost intolerable to think about.

So in general, Baby _didn't_ think about it. Instead, he spent his time _enjoying_ his time—these numbered hours he had with Saw.

Saw himself was involved with a bunch of social activities, mostly at his dad's urging. He was on the student council, was a member of six different clubs, volunteered for various social benefactors in his free time, which was practically nil.

None of that stuff mattered to Baby.

He liked the quiet moments he had with Saw best. They would often sneak away from the rest of the world together, just enjoying one another's company. After Wendy, Baby didn't bother with finding another girlfriend; he realized that he was only using other people to distract himself from his feelings for his best friend. It wasn't fair to the girl involved. So he remained single, and thus had a lot of free time. It seemed that he was always waiting on Saw's call. But whenever it came, he jumped up and ran to answer it.

But then it was April 30th.

And then May 1st. 2nd.

It was the 4th. Graduation was the next day.

Saw and Baby never talked about what would happen on May 5th. After that day, Saw would be moving away to New Hampshire and Baby likely wouldn't see him again for a long time...if ever.

But Baby didn't know how to put into words his fears or his feelings. “I'll die if you leave,” he wanted to say but instead, the words that typically escaped his lips were, “The meatball footlong is on special this week.”

Graduation day came. Both boys walked across the stage, Saw with honors, Baby with barely a 2.5 GPA.

Sam and Dean were both positioned on the bleachers in the gymnasium where the graduation ceremony was held. John had had prior obligations—as always—and was only there in spirit. The two men applauded loudly when Baby crossed the stage, though they really weren't supposed to.

On the opposite side, Saw's family was more sedate. His father, also, hadn't made it, but his brother Bentley and Bentley's personal assistant, Dodger, were there. Wendy, his sister, was in the graduating class with Saw himself.

Afterwards, both boys met on the 300 hall, away from the rush of the other students. It was the same place they'd first met one another. They stood there in the darkness, for it _was_ quite dark here far from the main halls. The school was saving money by only lighting those in frequent use.

“So,” Baby said, with a tiny, self-conscious grin.

“So.” Saw replied in the same way, handsome in his suit and his graduation robes, his hat held between his hands.

This was it. This was their last moment together. Baby swallowed thickly, staring into his best friend's blue eyes. And then, suddenly, he realized he couldn't let him leave without saying something. Not only would it be cowardly—and if the Winchester were anything, they weren't cowards—but it would also be a betrayal against his own heart. He had to be true to himself, and to his feelings.

“In a few minutes,” Baby said, his gruff voice a contrast to Saw's typically smooth tones, “our families are both gonna come for us, and they'll probably take us out for dinner. Your siblings will take you to some ritzy restaurant and my brothers will take me to Ruby Tuesdays. Then we'll go home, and in a week you'll be in Hanover, New Hampshire, and I'll still be here, and the fact is...” Baby took a deep breath. “The fact is, I'm in love with you, and I'll never stop being in love with you. And I know it's illogical because you've _told_ me so, and I know it's unreciprocated...because you've told me that, too. But Saw Lecter...”

Baby looked down, unable to bear Saw's blank gaze any longer. “I'd give anything to be your morning thought and the dream you slip into at night. That's what you are to me, you know.”

There was a long silence. After a while, Baby couldn't stand it anymore. He cast his gaze up and Saw was still there, but he was just _staring_ back at Baby. He opened his mouth, and then a voice called out, “ _There_ you are, dear,” and Bentley and Wendy Lecter were coming around the corner, followed not far behind by Sam and Dean Winchester and Baby watched Saw's mouth slowly close, lips pressing into a thin line and.

Baby smiled.

Because he'd played his hand, and he'd lost.

+++

Several months later, Baby Winchester was interning at Verger Auto Center, the best automotive center in Baltimore.

The VAC had hired Baby on the condition that he continue his coursework at Baltimore City Community College, and also that he work for minimum wage. Baby was okay with both of these requirements; it wasn't like he needed much money, given his simple lifestyle, and he enjoyed his classes at the college.

He had moved out of the motel room he shared with Sam and was renting a small apartment not far from Lake Ashburton. It was dingy and cramped, but it was his.

All in all, his life was....

Well, it was stable.

That was all Baby ever hoped for in life anymore. For it to be stable, for it to be something he could control.

One day in late September, when he was in his second year of college and the leaves on the trees were starting to turn to a deep, vibrant orange and the air was cool and crisp with the promise of Autumn, Baby saw a car pull up in the parking lot of the VAC. Baby was covered in grease and oil, his work shirt clinging to him with sweat despite the cool weather. He was too busy changing the timing belt on an old Camry to notice exactly who was climbing out of the Jaguar that some douche had parked right in the middle of the lane.

When he finally did look up, his heart went still.

Even after all this time, Saw looked the same. For some reason, Baby had thought that he would have changed in some way. Maybe grown a beard, gained a wrinkle or two, started wearing sunglasses or _something_. But no. He looked just like he had in junior year of high school when Baby had first met him, his serious gaze taking in the front of the auto shop and then the back, where the garages were, where _Baby_ was currently standing in stunned silence. When their eyes met, it was like two planets colliding and exploding in a massive shockwave; Baby wasn't even sure if he was standing on solid ground, so he didn't move, afraid of falling.

Instead, Saw approached him, his walk turning into a run the closer he got, and when he finally made it to Baby he threw his arms around his neck without any hesitation, as if almost two years hadn't passed with almost no contact between the two of them.

Finally, Baby could breathe. It wasn't just because he was releasing the breath he'd been holding ever since he'd first seen those (beloved, _worshipped_ ) steel blue eyes staring back at him.

He hadn't really been able to breathe ever since Saw had left.

“I'm sorry,” Saw was muttering against Baby's ear, “I'm so fucking sorry,” and then he was pulling back and Baby barely had enough time to feel a striking sense of loss before Saw's lips were on his, kissing him roughly and with little skill. It didn't matter; it was still the best kiss Baby had ever received and he instantly reciprocated, his oil-stained hands cupping Saw's face.

When they finally parted, Baby was in a daze. He was afraid this was another one of his idealistic dreams. But the baleful glare Saw was aiming at him wasn't something that would usually feature in his dreams, and the rough way Saw grasped the back of his neck, holding him still, was also new.

“What's going on?” Baby managed to get out. He was so, so confused.

“I love you, you fool,” Saw replied, and then was quiet for a moment before realizing he probably needed to elaborate. “I was making myself a sandwich and I realized I couldn't live without you any longer.”

As if this explanation made perfect sense.

Luckily, it did to Baby.

He leaned in and pressed his lips to Saw's again, much softer this time. He knew the other mechanics were probably returning from their lunch breaks. They were most likely staring at Saw and Baby, and making their judgments and assumptions. None of that mattered.

It had been almost two years, and Saw had come back to him.

“You wanna come over and hang out?” Baby's lips quirked up.

And Saw just smirked back at him.


End file.
